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The Sound of the Orchid
Disclaimer: I don't own PJO. Months after the death of her guardian, Jean begins the road of closure, but the road is not without obstacles. Her relationship with her sister is in shambles and she hasn't seen her brother since her guardian's death, or her uncle Zack. Suddenly, her world seems to be falling apart around her and she cannot tell the difference between the light and the dark. -Amon/Noatak 00:13, October 30, 2012 (UTC) Prologue All that Jean remembered from her toddler years was the voice of a young woman gently singing her to sleep. Her voice was sweet like honey and had the quality of a songbird's beautiful melody. The woman would sing her to sleep, every night, until the day she died. After that, Jean heard only stories of her mother from her father and her aunts and uncle. When her father was killed by the Nemean Lion she slowly forgot the sound of his voice, then a new voice became the dominant one in her life. When her guardian died she couldn't quite distinguish the voices anymore. They were blurred together and they all sounded like rain constantly hitting a metal sheet. But she could remember the voices of her mother and her guardian. The harp and the skeleton. The owl faded away from her memory and she couldn't quite understand what the boar would say. But the harp's voice would always sing her to sleep and the skeleton would always remind her not to do something she would regret. Jean desperately wanted to hear their voices again, but she knew the only way she could was by making a journey she wasn't yet ready to start. And somehow she would learn to understand what the boar was saying, and one day she would learn to remember the owl's speech. Chapter One The beat of the rain on the glass didn't help Jean fall asleep. Her mind was too wrapped up in the fact that her guardian had died a few months ago and she hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. Aunt Natalie told her it was a quick, painless death, but Jean refused to believe her. In her eyes, death was not synonymous with painless or quick. The way that uncle Zack was moping and darker than a rain cloud wasn't helping the matter. She had long since guessed that those two were a bit more than friends but her suspicions hadn't been confirmed until now. Uncle Zack would come around less and less but that hadn't bothered her much. He may have been a good person but he wasn't the guardian she had come to rely on. More and more she thought he was more like a puppy lost in the rain. Cold and depressed and looking for closure. She guessed she wasn't all that unlike him, but he had known her longer. The two had grown up together and if things had been different they might have grown old together. Jean didn't quite understand the concept of love, but she had a feeling it was an emotion her parents shared and her guardian and uncle knew quite well. As she closed her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time, she decided an emotion like that would only give her grief and heartache. Maybe aunt Natalie was the smart one in that area. * * * Jean was woken up by her sister's annoyed voice. "Jean, come on! We're going to be late for camp!" Jean didn't quite understand how you could be late for camp since most of the campers came in whenever their school year had finished; those times varied. But nevertheless she reluctantly opened her eyes and stood up from her bed. She ushered Zia out of her room and she changed into her regular outfit: a black shirt, black shorts, the skull necklace her guardian used to wear, and black sneakers. Zia had liked to say that Jean could have been the embodiment of death if she were a Hades or Thanatos kid from the way she dressed. Jean had grown used to Zia insults. When Jean and Zia walked into the kitchen, Natalie was sitting down at the wooden table with a cup of coffee in her hands. Jean thought the ex-Quester looked exactly like a mother and she didn't quite understand why her aunt never married or had children. There were bits and pieces she understood clearly but the rest was a mystery to her. From what her guardian had said something had happened to the daughter of Athena when she was young. "Good morning," aunt Natalie greeted and took a sip of her coffee. By reading the clock Jean discovered it was 7:35 A.M.; she didn't understand how both her aunt and sister could get up at such an hour. Some days she doubted she was related to them at all. "Ready to go to camp?" aunt Natalie added when she noticed the look on their faces. "Yes. Thank you aunt Natalie." Zia told her and Jean glared at her sister. Suck up, she thought darkly. The three gathered into the old truck aunt Natalie kept and her drove them off to Camp Half-Blood. The rain hadn't settled down from last night but it wasn't as if Jean expected it to. More like she wanted it to; there were too many rainclouds in her life. * * * Camp Half-Blood looked the same as it always did: campers, Chiron, Mr. D, satyrs, dryads. Only this time, instead of aunt Natalie driving away, she stuck with them as Zia and Jean made their way to the Big House to “check in”. The process was only Chiron greeting them to make sure they hadn't died yet, but this time Jean could feel the tension in the air. Zia could too if she looked passed her ego. Category:Leafwhisker Category:The Questers (OC Club)